


In the shadows

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Flashbacks, Rivendell | Imladris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 21 of the Mapmaker Series. A human woman joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to Erebor as a mapmaker and finds a lifelong love.</p>
<p>Flashback to the quest and foreshadowing in Rivendell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the shadows

The leather-bound book was creased and battered, some of its pages torn, stained, and even scorched, but to you it was precious beyond price. All the notes you’d made, landmarks you’d sketched, and directions you’d committed to its pages made it invaluable in creating and improving maps of the company’s progress through the lands between The Shire and the Lonely Mountain. Even now, with the quest over, and Erebor being rebuilt into a thriving community, you often referred to it when you set to work on your contributions to the royal archives. 

Today was just such a day, and as you flipped through your book, your parchments, quills, and ink bottles of every hue at the ready, your eyes discovered a leaf that bore a rare personal entry. You smiled wryly, remembering your good intentions of keeping a detailed journal of your adventures, but owing to the unpredictable and usually dangerous nature of the quest, your commentaries were sporadic, at best. This particular inscription had been written during your stay in Rivendell, and a flood of mixed emotions washed over you as you read.

_I do believe Rivendell is the most wonderful place I have ever been. I have asked myself if it is only the hardships of our journey that make me feel so, but I am certain that no matter how I came here, I should always feel hard pressed to leave. It is not only the beauty of the place that makes it such a haven – although it is indeed beautiful – but the elves have been so kind and patient with us, we are quite indebted to them._

_I say patient because I am afraid the dwarves are not the most well-behaved of guests. They complain about the food, though I am sure it is very healthful. They do not find the elvish music boisterous enough for their taste, and, much to my mortification, I am told that this afternoon they stripped bare and bathed themselves in one of the ornamental fountains. I don’t know how they will ever manage to look Lord Elrond in the face after that. He is friendly and exceedingly gracious, but he also has a very authoritative way about him, and I feel as though I should not like to see him angry._

_Except for Bilbo, the company refuse the offer of private rooms and soft beds, and instead have set up a sort of makeshift camp on one of the terraces, where they roast sausages (which Bofur found, goodness knows where) and smoke their pipes and stay up late into the night, telling stories and making each other roar with laughter._

_For my part, I am only too glad to have a lovely room and a featherbed all to myself, and I have the most relaxing baths in a large tub carved of smooth stone, with hot water and even perfumed oils. On the day we came, I stayed in the bath until the water had gone nearly cold, I was so happy to scrub myself clean of all the dirt and grime of my travels._

_The elven women are very gentle and considerate, and today provided me with a beautiful gown, made in the elven manner and skillfully sewn, as my clothes are being washed and mended. After I dressed, one of the ladies, who tells me her name is Faelwen, offered to help with my hair. She made a beautiful braid, very simple but very elegant, which I fear I will never be able to duplicate with my own clumsy fingers._

_I went with a light heart to join the company and Lord Elrond’s people for supper. Oh, I can’t tell how much it cheers me to feel rested and clean and, well, pretty for the first time in these many weeks. I think the dwarves were surprised to see me looking so ladylike, for their conversation stopped when I approached the dining table, and of course Kili and Fili had to tease me about my fine clothes and flowery scent. I believe Balin has more of the gentleman in him than any of them, for he took my hand and patted it, and told me I looked lovely. Then, to my surprise, he asked me if I might go and fetch Thorin to supper, as he had gone wandering among the maze of stairs and terraces that connect the buildings of Rivendell. I have no idea why he should have asked me, as I have less to do with Thorin than any of them, but I have already mentioned the sense of goodwill with which Rivendell has filled me, and so I went without complaint to do his bidding._

_I could not have known what distressing things I was to witness._

_I walked down several staircases, carefully holding the hem of my gown out of my way, for though the elves were kind enough to shorten it to better suit my height, which is a good deal less than theirs, it is still a bit over-long. I saw no sign of Thorin, and at last I stopped on a small landing that overlooks a beautiful waterfall and the river that flows through the city. I was distracted by watching the waterfall drape itself gracefully over the rock cliff beside the torchlit paths, and had stood there for some minutes contemplating how I might sketch it when I heard the sound of someone clearing his throat quite near me, and turned to see Thorin._

_“Oh! There you are,” I said, surprised by his sudden appearance and feeling self-conscious to have been caught dawdling, “Balin sent me to call you to supper…but I couldn’t find you.”_

_He nodded. “I saw you, from up there,” and he pointed to the balcony of a small pavilion above us. He looked rather intently at me, and it made me feel strange, almost flustered. “I thought you were an elf, at first glance,” he said, with a gesture toward my dress._

_I laughed. “Oh, no, I am not nearly so tall, nor so beautiful,” I replied. I spoke truly, but as soon as the words left my mouth I wished them back, for I hated to appear to beg for a compliment, especially from Thorin Oakenshield! Eager to cover my blunder, I made so bold as to tease him, just a bit, and with a smile I said, “I shall understand if you consider me a traitor, since I am got up in the elven fashion.”_

_He actually smiled in return – I confess he is very handsome when he smiles – and then, to my complete astonishment, he shook his head and said, quietly, “it is very becoming.”_

_I have never been so grateful for the darkness in all my life, as it hid the burning of my cheeks. I quickly looked away, suddenly finding the river very interesting indeed. When at last I looked back at him, he was watching me, and seemed about to say something, but out of the tail of my eye, I spied two figures crossing a walkway below where we stood, and my attention was diverted. As the figures came closer, it seemed that they were having a disagreement, and I could just begin to recognize them._

_“…Really, I think you can trust that I know what I’m doing,” Gandalf was saying earnestly._

_“Do you?” the other person replied. It was Lord Elrond, and he sounded stern. “That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail, if you wake the beast?”_

_At this, Thorin was by my side, observing, waiting for their next words. He looked at me and put his finger to his lips, needlessly, for I was as curious a listener as he._

_Gandalf went on, apparently trying to convince Lord Elrond of the necessity of our quest, saying something about strengthening defenses in the East if the mountain was reclaimed. “The throne of Erebor is Thorin’s birthright,” he finished, sounding exasperated, “what is it that you fear?”_

_Lord Elrond’s voice was tense. “Have you forgotten?” he asked. “A strain of madness runs deep in that family.”_

_My eyes were drawn irresistibly to Thorin’s at these words, and I watched him, feeling ever more stricken as Lord Elrond continued._

_“His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness.” He lowered his voice slightly. “Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?”_

_Truly, I felt as though my heart would break to see the mingling of shame and sadness and, indeed, fear on Thorin’s face, which is not something I have ever associated with him. He is always so headstrong, so sure, so irascible…it was only seeing him suddenly so vulnerable that made me realize I had thought him somehow incapable of it. Now I know better._

_I had to overcome a strange but powerful desire to put my arms around him and tell him everything would be all right, though it was a promise I could not make._ _As it was, I only said his name, in a choked sort of whisper, as Gandalf and Lord Elrond disappeared from our sight. I felt I should try to say something, though I knew not what, but at the sound of my voice, he looked even more sorrowful. He turned away from me, as though he could not bear to meet my gaze, and after a silent moment, he strode past me and up the stairs toward the place where the dwarves are encamped._

_I returned, slowly, to where the company were gathered at the dining table. Balin looked up from his plate, seeming disappointed to see me alone, asking, “where have you been, lassie? And where’s Thorin?”_

_I made the excuse that he had wished to rest, and Balin seemed satisfied by the lie, although Gandalf gave me a sharp look. I managed to make a decent supper, despite my unsettled mind and my concern for Thorin, and I write now from my room, hopeful that I will be able to calm my thoughts and sleep well…and that things will somehow be brighter in the morning._

It was your only entry from Rivendell, and for a long while afterward. One night soon after, you had found yourself unexpectedly awakened in the still, cold hours just before dawn by Fili gently shaking you, passing on Thorin’s orders that the company were to dress themselves and pack their things as quickly and quietly as possible. You had looked back sadly as you’d left Rivendell, missing your featherbed already and feeling uneasy about fleeing stealthily, without so much as a thank you.

As you mused over this chapter in your life’s story, a pair of muscular arms crept around you from behind, and a soft beard brushed your cheek. With a smile, you turned to kiss your husband, come home to join you for luncheon. 

Thorin looked curiously at the book in your hands. “What are you reading?” 

“Only a journal entry I’d made on the quest,” you replied, putting the book down on the table and turning around to face him, brushing his hair back from his face before resting your hands on his shoulders. “I only wrote a few, and I came across one of them while I was looking for the description of the path from our camp to the trolls’ hoard.” 

He seemed intrigued. “And the day you wrote about…did anything important happen?” 

You smiled, and put your arms around him, as you had so longed to do that night in Rivendell. “No,” you said, kissing him fondly, thankfully. “Nothing that matters now.”


End file.
